Pushing Who: Happy Go Weirdy
by Applegrass
Summary: An ordinary day at the Pie Hole is halted by the arrival of a strange man and three companions in a bizarre blue box…chaos ensues…and Emerson finds he might just need their help with the latest, most mysterious case.
1. In Which We First Encounter the Pie Hole

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter One by: **Immy

Hope you enjoy the fic! Oh, and parts one and two are posted together in case of confusion caused for any Doctor Who fans by the Pie Hole~centric beginning...

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**Chapter One**

**In Which We First Encounter The Pie Hole**

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There once was a Pie-maker whose life seemed to consist simply of baking, private investigating and his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte Charles, more commonly known as Chuck. Their surprising lack of physical contact was not always obvious, but it was constant, as they could never, ever touch. For the Pie-maker had a gift, of sorts. And not just in making pastries.

The Pie-maker could touch dead things and bring them back to life. The gift came from nowhere but followed these rules. Touch a dead thing once, and it is alive, again, forever. Touch a dead thing twice, and it is dead, again, forever. Touch a dead thing once and then not again within the timeframe of one minute precisely - and something else has to die in its place.

Only twice in his life had the Pie-maker brought a being back to life for good, and these two "alive again" organisms were now two of the very most important in his life. For one, there was his dog, Digby, a golden retriever with all the expected mannerisms of his species, but also slightly enhanced intelligence for a canine. The second was Charlotte "Chuck" Charles, with whom the Pie-maker now stood in his kitchen, instructing her in the fine art of making apricot pie.

At this moment, the Pie-maker was 29 years 10 months two days 4 hours and five minutes old. The sun burst through the windows in his restaurant and all seemed well. The radiant morning light always caused the establishment to gain a healthy glow, and with Chuck, all would always be well, in the Pie-maker's mind.

The decision had been taken twenty-four hours previously to plan a picnic. Already a basket sat, empty and lonely, in the corner of the kitchen, ready to be filled. Not much thought had been put into what they would eat, except that pie would clearly be essential. Conversation bandied around casually and the pair pondered upon how their afternoon out together would pass. There was a fresh buzz of excitement in the air that emanated from Chuck, her eyes wide and smile wider at the prospect of an outing with the man she loved yet could not touch. Though this part of their relationship was always evident, she tried not to let it play on her mind constantly, as this could ruin any sign of normality between this particular boyfriend and girlfriend.

The pie Chuck now prepared was to be part of the afternoon's proceedings. Her yellow-painted nails carefully flattened strips of pastry over the juicy orange filling, and she had clearly listened to every word the Pie-maker had said. The pie was symmetrical, bursting with filling and ready for the oven. As he slipped the cold pastry into the already heated oven, Chuck rinsed her hands and said,

"Do you know, I think it's about time we had some honey. Honey sandwiches for lunch, like Winnie the Pooh. I mean, seeing as I have all my bees, might as well use them, right?" She slipped off the vibrant apron she wore, adding "…unless you just want jam?"

The Pie-maker looked up from the blueberry cup-pies he had been preparing and smiled a little half-smile. "Honey sounds good."

"Of course." The girl named Chuck smiled back.

* * *

As Chuck left the Pie Hole, Olive Snook (29 years 4 months three days 20 hours and forty minutes old) entered her place of work, where she had so long thought was home. A slight awkwardness still resided between herself and the Pie-maker, due to matters of love that can hardly be explained in such limited time. All that can be said is that though they were friends and happy in each other's company, Olive Snook had always wanted something more; something that the girl named Chuck had in her place.

"Morning, Ned!" Olive grinned. "And good morning Digby." The dog's ears pricked and he padded softly over to his friend, where he received a decent petting, that which he would never receive from his master.

"Morning, Olive." Olive glanced over, as she had so many times before, to see the tall, shy man baking, a deep look of intensity on his face as he adjusted blueberries. Strong arms performed the most delicate tasks in a perfectionist manner and his tousled hair flopped just so into his eyes. It was no wonder that retrieving her heart from him was becoming a difficult and near impossible task, even though he had precious idea that he held it.

"Not many customers so far," she commented, airily glancing around the deserted restaurant.

"Give them time, Olive. It's not even ten yet." Apparently satisfied with the cup-pies, they were sent into the oven along with Chuck's apricot pie, and the homely smell of baking spread through the room. Silence also spread rapidly, broken only by the contented hum of the oven.

"So…um…any deliveries?" Olive scrambled for something to say as she wandered around the back of the counter.

"I believe Chuck may want to send a pie. But that's not something I know for sure. I mean, she isn't here. I mean, she went upstairs to get honey."

"Honey?" Olive wrinkled her nose. "You can't put honey in a pie, can you?"

The Pie-maker gave Olive a fleeting look. "It's not for pie. For sandwiches."

"Lunch, at this time?"

"Chuck and I are going for a picnic." He avoided her gaze under the clever guise of the beginnings of a fresh pie. Focused on the rolling pin and pastry beneath his hands, he missed witnessing the smile of his waitress slip ever so slightly.

"Well, why waste such a beautiful day?" Olive beamed. It was lucky she could act, at times like this, she thought. "Are you sure there's no pie that I could take out? I'd love to enjoy the morning. With Digby," she added, "if you could fetch his leash?" The Pie-maker finally looked at her, and gave a tight smile.

"I suppose we could find something." Shuffling around the pies on the stand in the kitchen, he chose a Kiwi pie that sat lonely and dejected. Not the most popular flavour at the Pie Hole, it was an acquired taste that just a few shared, and perfect for a surprise random baked gift for whomever Olive happened to choose. Once, it had been a lady feeding pigeons in the park, who promptly burst into tears and told Olive her fiancé had just left her. Olive had recounted this tale many times; from this, the Pie-maker knew that the Kiwi pie was a healing pie, and though its taste at first might seem bitter, it was a whole lot sweeter than many realities in the world.

Packing the pie into a box and simultaneously grabbing Digby's leash, the Pie-maker thought about Chuck and her sociable knack for unseating awkwardness. The Pie-maker sighed a little while sliding the box shut, in silent frustration at his confusion. He handed Olive the box and the leash, and allowed himself a wider smile. Olive Snook smiled back as she clicked on Digby's leash, before pattering out of the shop on teetering heels, leash in one hand and pie in the other, a pure symbol of devotion to the Pie-maker and his life.

However, what was about to occur would be something never seen before, and enough to instill fear both in the Pie-maker's heart and in that of his waitress. The sudden event would not be taken lightly by anyone. And as Olive Snook stepped off the pavement outside the restaurant, she had no idea of the storm brewing overhead until it was far, far too late for anyone concerned to avoid it.

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_End of chapter one._


	2. Two Very Different Worlds Collide

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Two by:** Jess

Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two**

**In Which ****Two Very Different Worlds Collide**

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With a loud bang, the TARDIS crash-landed; its doors bursting open, pouring acrid smoke onto the rooftop. Coughing and spluttering, four individuals stumbled out of the smoking and took in a breath of clean, sunny, morning air.

"Amazing," Jack commented, once his lungs had rejected the clinging gas and he could breathe properly again.

"What is?" the Doctor coughed in reply.

"That even with the three of us to help you navigate, you still end up getting us lost!" Jack replied, shooting a glance at the be-suited Time Lord who was shaking the smoke out of the folds of his long coat. The 'three of us' Jack had mentioned were the flirtatious Captain himself, a curious medical student from London, and the fastest temp in Chiswick, who'd somehow found themselves taken along for the ride. Martha and Donna moved away from the noxious fumes the TARDIS was emitting in order to inspect the new landscape. Travelling with the Doctor was like playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette; you never knew precisely what the outcome of the Doctor's seemingly random button pressing would be, but there was always the chance that you would end up on a planet inhabited by scaly sharp-fanged creatures that wanted nothing more than to devour you.

"I don't know what's wrong with her…" the Doctor muttered to himself, ducking inside the blue box to inspect his precious time machine. His crew could hear snippets of his technobabble floating out onto the rooftop.

"…probably just a flux in the gravitational temporal dilator…"

Jack and the girls sighed. There was probably nothing wrong with the Doctor's machine. There never was. They knew that no matter what the destination had previously been, the problem was always that the Doctor couldn't seem to stay away from trouble, and that _something_ was bound to happen now that they were in the area.

"...extrapolation modem?..."

"What have you done to my bees?!" a shocked voice seemingly exploded out of thin air.

"Bees?" Martha queried, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Yes, 'bees'. My bees. And what have you done to them?" the girl rushed past the startled time travellers and began to inspect one of the many hives they had just noticed were covering the entire roof. As she did this, Jack looked her up and down approvingly.

"...yes! The quantum thermoregulatory system..."

"Probably not trying to figure out where we've landed by looking at what she's wearing," Donna muttered to the medical student. Jack ignored Martha's subsequent giggling and pretended not to hear them.

"Well, she'll be alright. It was just a slight blip in the–" the Doctor began, having just emerged from the TARDIS cleaning his hands.

"Ah," he attempted. He hadn't expected there to be anyone on the rooftop with them, least of all a pretty brunette in yellow tending to some upset bees. He promptly turned and locked the TARDIS, slipping the golden key into his coat pocket.

"Oh, get away from me..." Jack moaned, drawing the Doctor's attention.

"What's wrong, Jack? The famous Captain Harkness is afraid of bees?" Donna laughed, giving the annoyed Time Agent a playful shove. The Doctor looked on, arms folded, choosing to ignore his banter-filled companions and looking instead at the cityscape and the newcomer in front of him in an attempt to determine exactly where and when he had managed to land.

"They won't hurt you. That's suicide for them," the mystery girl said, comforting a second hive, "I'm Chuck, by the way,"

The Doctor gave her a smile and a small wave, before Jack stole everyone's attention back to himself by beginning to freak out about the bees.

"Come on, guys," he began, walking backwards and taking wild swipes at the offending creatures, "It's not the being hurt part I'm worried about. I've got a strange allergy to bees, wasps and Stirlanian insects. Just being near them is aggravating my–"

Jack's sentence became lost in the air as he fell through it. Stumbling backwards to get away from Chuck's bees, Jack had tripped over a strategically placed flowerpot and ended up being thrown headfirst over the edge of the roof. Chuck, who felt partially to blame for the unfortunate incident, was shocked at how little her roof invaders seemed to care about the Captain's imminent death. The beekeeper rushed to the edge, to see Jack's body hurtle headfirst towards the ground...

* * *

...to land with a slight crack and a resounding thud at the feet of Digby and Olive Snook, the latter of which screamed in shock and fear. At the sound of the piercing scream, the Pie-maker had dropped the half-finished peach pie he was working on and rushed out of _The Pie Hole_ to see what had happened to upset his waitress so. Coincidentally, Emerson Cod had just arrived outside _The Pie Hole_ to discuss yet another murder case with him.

"Just my luck," the disgruntled private investigator grumbled, "What happened and why should I care?"

"Olive?" Ned asked, looking concerned for his waitress.

Olive Snook realised that no words would really be necessary in explaining the incident to her friends, so instead she pointed once at the slightly mangled and bruised body at her feet, and then once again straight up in the air. In one fluid synchronised movement, Emerson and Ned looked up to the sky, to see a distressed Chuck looking over the railings, flanked by three rather less distressed individuals who, in Emerson's mind at least, shouldn't have been up there looking so "not distressed".

The Pie-maker, knowing what was going to be expected of him, gave the investigator a pleading glance. Emerson's head replied by nodding at the body and then at Ned. Olive meanwhile, was completely oblivious to this whole exchange, as she found herself strangely captivated by the body on the floor, and also the fact that the silent conversation was taking place above her head.

"Come on, Olive," Emerson said to the tiny waitress, resting a hand on her shoulder, "Let's get inside. I'm in the mood for rhubarb,"

And with those words, the Pie-maker found himself alone with a dead body. Or so he thought.

"Somehow, I don't think he's going to have much to say," Ned muttered to no one in particular, "Unless he wants to tell me who pushed him, but Chuck could probably do that..."

The Pie-maker continued to muse to himself in this way as he dropped to his knees and leaned over the body. His 'magic finger' was just inches away from the only accessible part of the body's skin, the face, when Jack suddenly gasped his way back into the land of the living. Ned instinctively recoiled slightly, while Jack sat up and laughed at him lightly.

"It's not everyday I wake up and find a cute guy like yourself leaning over me," Jack grinned at the bemused Pie-maker. The man in question was setting the timer on his watch, a fact which Jack noticed and decided to comment on.

"A stopwatch, eh? There are lots of things you can do with a stopwatch. Want me to teach you some of them?" the cheeky Captain winked at Ned, who was saved from answering by the arrival of Chuck and the three individuals from the roof.

"Errr... I can explain," Ned began, but was interrupted.

"Jack. Did you have to?" the Doctor scolded gently.

"Well, I'm sorry, there wasn't exactly anything I could do," Jack replied, getting to his feet and brushing the gravel off his coat.

"Ned, are you alright?" Chuck comforted the Pie-maker, who was beginning to twitch slightly as the remainder of his minute became shorter and shorter.

"Oh, and by the way, if anyone was wondering, I think I know where we are," the Doctor said, "It's Earth, or a parallel one as far as I can tell,"

"Is that it?" Donna scolded, "Earth? I could have told you that!"

"You promised me beaches of emeralds!" Martha complained.

"Hey, it's better than nothing. The sights here are pretty good," Jack said, smiling slyly at Ned.

"Hey, hey, hey! You got another trip through time and space didn't you?" the Doctor interjected.

"Can everybody stand completely still for a few moments, please?" Ned asked, sounding worried as he checked his watch again. Jack had been alive for more than one minute, and Ned knew that the rules clearly stated that someone or something else would now have to die. He was also becoming increasingly aware that there were a large number of people in the vicinity of Jack's death, himself and Chuck included.

He was quite surprised that everyone listened to him. The TARDIS crew were silent for almost 10 seconds, a record achievement for them, before Donna burst out with:

"So... what are we waiting for?"

"I'm... scared that someone may die very soon," Ned replied.

"Oh, now why'd you have to say that?" the Doctor said, "And why are you thinking that?"

He whipped out his specs and started looking around for any causes of possible murder.

"Look, I think we need to talk," Ned said exasperatedly.

"I find pie to be an excellent conversation starter," Chuck smiled, leading the way back into _The Pie Hole._

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_End of chapter two._


	3. Discussions Ensue

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Three by: **Immy

Enjoy!

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**Chapter Three**

**In Which Discussions Ensue, and Emerson Becomes Cranky**

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Soon there were four new customers in the previously deserted Pie Hole, all clearly far from home and all intrigued by the pies listed on the menu. The girl named Chuck watched from the other side of the counter with the Pie-maker. He stood nervously with his hands behind his back, staring incredulously at the man who had been seen to die, but had not died; whose "alive again" status was nothing to do with the Pie-maker himself. If it were not for the fact dead bodies were a constant feature in his life, the Pie-maker would have had a sudden severe instance of abnormal heart function, more commonly known as a heart attack.

The four visitors he could see were out of the ordinary, not even considering the one man's brush with death. A flame-haired woman with a cheeky smile sat next to a skinny, besuited man with brown hair that could have been plugged into an electric socket with no difference made. A petite woman wearing leathers sat next to the man the Pie-maker had almost touched, but not quite. His teeth were dazzlingly white and the coat he wore was of the military variety, with shiny brass buttons and wide shoulders that accentuated his form. Each was considering the Pie Hole's menu. It had so far been eleven minutes and forty-five seconds since they had seated themselves in the booth, and the Pie-maker was beginning to wonder whether it would have been easier to simply press upon them the fresh blueberry cup-pies that sat cooling on the counter, on the house.

"Here, Doctor, should I have raspberry, blueberry, or kiwi? I love raspberries. But then, I used to have blueberries as a kid. Dad would make crumble." Donna Noble stared thoughtfully at Digby, who lay in front of the counter_._ "Kiwi sounds a lot more adventurous, though."

The man with the brown hair whipped off his glasses and slipped them into his pocket.

"Tell you what, Donna…I'll get the kiwi. Then you can get the blueberry." Before waiting for a response, he rapidly continued a frenzied speech that seemed to trip effortlessly off his tongue, with no consideration for the others in his company's understanding. "No, I can't say I've ever had a kiwi pie before, either. But I have had a snozzcumber pie. Now, that was a bad day. Ended up running for my life across the desert pursued by some of the vilest amphibians I have ever had the misfortune to encounter…"

"Snozzcumber? Isn't that from a kids' book…" Martha Jones looked up at the Doctor, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"It certainly is. That doesn't mean it doesn't exist, Martha, you should know that. Any chance of a cup of tea?" The Doctor waved crazily at Chuck, who gave a wave back with similar enthusiasm. Worried, however, for the Pie-maker's peace of mind, she turned to him and pointed out quietly,

"Well, as they're here, you might as well try and figure out what happened."

He nodded. "If they'd only hurry up and choose the pies, then we could get some answers…though actually, I'm more worried about Olive."

* * *

Olive Snook was in no mood for any kind of investigation. Sitting opposite the private investigator in the far corner of the Pie Hole, she sniffled into a tissue and secretively tipped a suspicious clear liquid into the cup of coffee in front of her.

Emerson Cod, on the other hand, was desperate to begin an investigation. He was out of yarn and a case had come knocking the previous night. Without the Pie-maker, his sweater vest would remain a few inches too short for rather longer than it should do, consequently, he was itching to leave the Pie Hole and get to the morgue. Not that this seemed likely any more.

He drummed his fingers on the table and looked over at the four excitable new arrivals.

"Just give 'em the damn rhubarb," he muttered.

"I'm sorry?" said Olive.

"Nothing." Emerson frowned. "And are you sure about mixing vodka and coffee so early?" Affronted, Olive glanced around and hissed,

"A strange man just fell off the roof, then got up and walked. What're you suggesting, that I'm drinking something too strong for the situation?!" To emphasise this, she took an enormous swig from the bottle before dumping the remainder in her coffee. "I didn't think so."

* * *

"Welcome to the Pie Hole. Are you ready to order?" Chuck took up Olive's usual job effortlessly, pen poised above a miniscule notepad. Investigating combined with pie was, as an interrogater, Chuck's ultimate speciality. The visitors looked up at her and all smiled warmly. The man who had fallen did this in particular dazzling fashion, then held out his hand.

"Captain Jack Harkness. Sorry about your bees. It was Chuck, wasn't it?"

Surprised by his blatantly flirtatious manner, particularly after his unexpected collision with the pavement, she simply smiled back and said,

"It certainly was."

"And I'm the Doctor." The second man with a crazed gleam in his eyes offered his hand, adding, "…yes, I don't know how that happened, on the roof –"

"It was only your hopeless navigational skills," snorted the woman at his side. "Donna, Donna Noble."

"And I'm Martha," said the fourth guest. Chuck relaxed instantly. The fact that they were so friendly and eager to introduce themselves should surely ease some of the Pie-maker's fears? She beamed back at the foursome and continued,

"Well, we're very pleased to have you here today…have you chosen your pies?"

"Oho, yeah," winked the Captain. "I'm thinking I'll be going with peach."

"Blueberry, thanks."

"Aaaand kiwi here, with tea if it's not too much trouble."

"And for me! With a strawberry pie. Just to keep it simple." Chuck looked down at the quiet woman seated next to the Captain. She was smiling shyly back and was clearly the sensible one of the pack, especially judging by the behaviour of the two men. Though it was hard to believe that any of them were sane after apparently witnessing one of their number fall from a rooftop, uncaring and unsurprised.

"Ned!" she called, turning away from the table. "Peach, blueberry, kiwi and strawberry...are all those ready?" A voice returned from far back in the kitchen.

"Uh…I guess." Satisfied that her interrogation could continue, the girl named Chuck turned back and asked,

"So…what are you all doing in town? We haven't seen you around before, we know all the pie-lovers in the area – or so we thought - "

"Ohh, we're just passing through," said the Doctor.

"Not that we should be," smirked Donna, "more years than you could imagine of driving and he still can't get us where we want to go."

"Give it a rest, Donna! And who's to say we wanted to go anywhere in particular, anyway? Isn't that half the fun of travelling? Come on, you know it is…"

"Well, if you hadn't misfired, we certainly wouldn't be doing this amount of great sight-seeing."

"Jack!" Martha rolled her eyes theatrically. "He always does that," she told Chuck, who had just managed to accidentally catch the Captain's eye. He held her gaze with his stunning blue eyes for just long enough for the approaching Pie-maker to stumble on a carelessly placed chair upon noticing. Chuck blinked at the sound and took the pie from his hands without looking at him. But by this point, the Captain's attention had been otherwise engaged.

"Hello, you must be Ned." In precisely the way he had greeted Chuck, the Captain's flirtatious nature was strikingly evident. The Pie-maker, however, eyed his hand but did not shake it for fear of what might happen, instead smiling tightly before returning to the kitchen. As Donna and the Doctor stabbed forks into steaming warm pie, Chuck looked inquisitively at the man that should have died. It appeared that what they had in common was not just death, but a degree of interest in the Pie-maker. She sullenly folded her arms and stepped back from the table, just in time for Ned to shout,

"CHUCK!" Shocked and suddenly aware of how her step had almost taken her to the grave, she spun around on the spot. The Pie-maker was breathing rather heavily and reeling slightly at how his bare, fruit stained arms could so easily have brushed the tender arms of the girl he called Chuck.

Donna Noble, on the other hand, simply swallowed and said of their near collision,

"Nice one. And by the way, this pie is good. Really good."

"Quite extraordinary…" muttered the Doctor, "…the blend of texture, it's just perfect. And the kiwi is not too sweet, not too sour…" Only about a quarter of his pie was left as Martha and the Captain tucked into their platefuls. In only four minutes and thirty-five seconds, all that would be left on any plate would be flecks of juice and crumbs. However, Emerson Cod was already tired of waiting. Standing up abruptly, he left Olive to her vodka-infused coffee to stride over to the Pie-maker. Jabbing him on the shoulder, he insisted,

"This is taking far longer than it should. We've got a date at the morgue with a body that needs to go into the ground, and I can't wait all day for you to lap up compliments. So get movin'."

"The morgue?" asked Martha. There was strawberry juice all down her chin, but nobody mentioned it.

"Yeah, the morgue. Private investigator, Emerson Cod. And – " Martha had offered Emerson her hand, which, surprised, he shook. "And I need the Pie man."

"Don't even think about it," said Donna, twirling her fork menacingly at the Captain, who had just started to open his mouth with some witty quirk or another.

"Private investigator? Fascinating. Need a hand?" The Doctor was suddenly very, very interested. Emerson's stubborn reply was a resounding

"No."

"But we're good with murders. Solved a murder, no, a triple murder, with Agatha Christie once."

"That we did!" grinned Donna.

"Excuse me?" Chuck raised her eyebrows. "That's…ridiculous."

"Since when do _you_ care about ridiculous?!" asked Emerson, with a thick layer of incredulity. Overcome with a frustration that the investigation she had instigated might just be failing, Chuck burst out with the words,

"Well, maybe since four people appeared on my roof, nearly killed my bees, and then one of them fell to the ground and isn't dead when they're supposed to be?"

There was a short silence in the Pie Hole. Until -

"There's a lot of that around…" all seven people turned to stare at Olive, who rested her chin in her hands expectantly.

"Olive!" chorused Chuck, Emerson and the Pie-maker. Chuck continued,

"Now is not the time -"

"Am I missing something here?" asked the Captain, rather mischievously.

"NO!" the three investigators yelled in unison.

"…unless you feel like explaining yourself any time soon?" added the Pie-maker. He shrugged a little and shoved his hands into his pockets, but the message was clear.

Answers were needed.

"Oh." The Captain's face fell. "You want to know about the roof? Well, the thing is…it's just that…" he looked at Martha, who shrugged, then Donna, who suppressed a laugh, then the Doctor, who –

"Yes, the thing is, Jack has a disease."

"What?!" the Captain spluttered.

"Hyperflexohoomagorpaglobinopolistitis bug, which is an extremely – and I mean EXTREMELY – rare bone disease, causing clumsiness, flexibility, supple bones…"

"Um…yes! I do." He nodded vigorously.

Not entirely satisfied, the Pie-maker and Chuck simultaneously folded their arms and looked down at the four strangers who were just getting stranger by the minute, wondering how on earth they had gotten into this mess.

"Great. Can we go now?" Emerson looked bored as ever.

"Yes. I'll come too," Chuck announced.

"Ohh hell no," moaned Emerson, "I'm not having you and Pie man making love eyes at each other all the way there – "

"Without the word 'eyes', I'd have been in that car faster than you can say Raxacoricofallapatorious," winked the Captain.

"Raxa-what now?" asked Olive, who had suddenly appeared at the Pie-maker's side.

"Nobody cares!" growled Emerson Cod, checking his watch. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Is it ok if you clear up, Olive?"

"Huh?" her eyes had fallen on the Captain, who winked.

"Jack!" moaned Martha. He raised his hands defensively.

"Can't help it!" the Captain smirked. Olive Snook was simply pleased to have a little attention – he was no Pie-maker, but it was fine by her.

"Yeah, sure. Bye, Ned! Bye, Emerson! Bye, Chuck!" Olive waved the Pie-maker, the private investigator and the girl named Chuck out of the restaurant and into Emerson's car. The car zoomed off in a flurry of exhaust and confusion whilst thoughts of the four people from the roof filled the Pie-maker's apprehensive mind. For the explanation given by the Doctor had been a long way from comforting, and in the Pie-maker's eyes, secrets still needed to be unearthed.

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_End of chapter three._

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	4. In Which The Piemaker's Car Is Useful

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Four by: **Immy

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**In Which The Pie-maker's Car Is Surprisingly Useful**

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Well, they certainly enjoyed the pie.

This was the first thought of Olive Snook, looking down at the dishes licked clean so neatly and wholly they could have just been washed, rather than only eaten off a few minutes previously. Upon starting to clear the plates, however, the Doctor leapt in with the first of many questions.

"So…what do they normally do up there then? At the morgue, I mean." Olive shrugged.

"Well, Emerson's a private investigator, and Ned and Chuck always help out, somehow. Ned's good with dead bodies, they do evidence gathering…" she frowned, "or something like that."

"And Emerson didn't mention anything about the case?"

"Nope. Why would he?"

Olive piled up the spotless plates and forks and carried them over to the counter, where Digby still lay. He whined slightly.

"What is it, boy?" She turned back to the Doctor and his companions and smiled. "Do you like dogs?"

"Well, I'm certainly not a cat person." The Doctor gave an inescapably dazzling grin, and Olive was at once struck by certain similarities with the Pie-maker's effortless good looks. She tried to push all thoughts from her head and focus on the current situation, and did so…with difficulty.

"Why're you so interested in the case? Probably just some poor soul's relatives looking for a reason why they died, trying to prove it was murder instead of an accident."

"The reason, Olive, is that I'm not really a Doctor at all. I am – " and with a flourish he produced a piece of paper in a leather holder and waved it in her direction. " – John Smith of Scotland Yard."

"Oh really?" She strode towards him and took the card. Just for a second, it seemed as if there was nothing there, but then she blinked and a full set of Her Majesty's Service credentials bloomed into view. She handed it back, puzzled. "So, why don't you call yourself John?"

"Oh…just because I'm the Doctor."

"I thought you said you weren't a Doctor?"

"NO, I'm THE Doctor."

"…right." Still perplexed, the petite waitress simply added, "You'll be wanting to go to the morgue, I presume. If you're still interested in the case." The grin grew wider.

"Oh yes!" Donna, Martha and the Captain all nodded, intrigued. The Captain felt the need to add,

"Except, we don't have transport." At this, Olive paused, but not for long.

"Ned always leaves his car keys in the Pie Hole…in case of emergencies...oh, to hell with that."

And the waitress wandered behind the counter, plucked out the keys and placed them in the Captain's outstretched hand with barely a second thought. There was just something about these people that made them seem trustworthy, if a little odd. Or at least, this was what Olive Snook told herself, though the vodka-infused coffee just might have been more to blame than she was prepared to admit.

* * *

"You do know where you're going, right?"

"Yeah."

"Really? I thought you said you never go with them."

"I live here though, don't I? Of course I should know the town's major landmarks."

"Only a town as crazed as this would have the morgue as a major landmark…"

"Just drive!"

Olive Snook wondered how this situation had come to be. She was sat squeezed between two Englishwomen while a manic "Doctor" from Scotland Yard and a Captain of god-only-knows-what (something cheesy, she thought) drove the Pie-maker's car madly through the streets.

"This isn't Cardiff, Jack! Slow DOWN!" The Doctor yelled as the Captain narrowly missed a lamppost.

"No need to shout," the Captain grinned. "I'm more interested as to why there's a plastic wall here. Your Ned doesn't double as a taxi driver, does he?"

"He's not MY Ned. And no, that's for – "

"There's a glove, look! A glove attached to the side of a transparent wall. I can't tell you what I'm thinking now..."

"Thank you SO much for that image, Mr Harkness," Donna rolled her eyes theatrically.

"THAT is for Ned and Chuck," Olive finally managed to say.

"Oh, that's just going to make him worse, Olive!" Donna glowered at the back of the Captain's head, though Olive could definitely see a smirk forming.

"EYES ON THE ROAD, HARKNESS!" The Doctor's outburst was sudden, but Olive was in instant agreement for fear of her own life. "And watch out for that red light! Where on earth did you learn to drive? Or should I say where in the universe…"

"Turn here!" Olive called, and instantly winced as the brakes' immediacy almost hurtled her into the front seat.

"Jack, this car isn't exactly brand new. I can't imagine that Ned would be all too pleased to hear you ruined it…" Martha pointed out, to no avail. The Captain ignored her, continuing to drive in the same deranged manner. Puzzled, he asked,

"Why would Ned and Chuck need _that_, apart from the various filthy reasons that happened to cross my mind…"

"Your mind's already filthy." Donna and Martha both called. Startled, they turned to each other and burst out laughing. Olive giggled, too, before replying,

"They don't touch."

"What?!" said the Doctor disbelievingly.

"Something like Chuck has a deadly food allergy."

"Do you really believe that, Olive Snook?" The Doctor snorted.

"Of course it's crossed my mind that that doesn't make sense!" she raged, "But there's not really any other plausible explanation."

"When you say they don't touch…" began the Captain.

"They can't." Olive instantly regretted these words, however, as all four people began to talk at once.

"Then how do they – "

"Yeah, do they ki- "

"I'd be devastated if I couldn't touch that – "

"Frankly, a "deadly food allergy" between human flesh is quite impossi- "

"DON'T ASK ME I DON'T KNOW I DON'T _WANT _TO KNOW NOW CAN WE PLEASE REMOVE NED AND CHUCK FROM THE CONVERSATION?!"

The Doctor, Martha, Donna and the Captain all turned round to stare at Olive. Her face was flushed, her eyebrows ferociously knitted together. She blanched quickly, however, as she pointed out,

"Nobody's watching the road!"

The Captain turned instantly to watch as he sailed through a red light, narrowly missing a couple who swore violently at the passing car as they ran for cover. He sighed with relief.

"Sorry about that."

"Actually, I'd just like to point out that though you, Doctor, say a "deadly food allergy between human flesh is quite impossible", this man here who apparently cannot keep his eyes in one place for more than five seconds has an incredibly suspicious sounding boning disease…"

Olive paused, thinking what she had said just didn't quite fit.

"Was that me, or was that the vodka talking?"

Her words were drowned, however, by the sound of three people laughing manically, their bodies shaking with mirth. The Captain, Donna and Martha were in hysterics, while the Doctor simply shook his head, though Olive could see him smiling in rear view mirror. He looked up at the mirror and caught her eye.

"See what I end up travelling with, Olive?"

* * *

_End of chapter four._


	5. In Which Two Teams Join Forces

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Five by: **Jess

Sorry, it's been a long wait! Hope it's worth it ;)

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five**

**In Which ****the Pie-Holers and the TARDIS Crew Join Forces**

* * *

"And don't you even think about complaining that you're in the back again!" Emerson said, as he ushered the Pie-maker and the girl named Chuck away from _The Pie Hole_ into his car.

"Fine," the girl who was not dead sulked.

"Now, someone wanna explain to me why a guy who fell 30 storeys is up and walking around, cos I ain't buying that hyper-flexo-hoohah crap," Emerson said, shooting a suspicious look in the Pie-maker's direction.

"It wasn't me!" the man in question protested, "At least, I don't think it was. He woke up before I even touched him, which shouldn't be possible. Although I could have accidentally touched one of his hairs or something, but I don't think so,"

"There's something not quite normal about all of them," Chuck mused, "They didn't seem too worried about the possibility of Jack dying. Maybe he has got that Hyperflexothingy disease…"

"Normal…You guys are talking about who's normal and who's not?" Emerson laughed under his breath.

"The Doctor did seem to act like Jack falling off buildings happened a lot," the Pie-maker continued, ignoring Emerson's snigger.

"Doctor," the private investigator snorted, "I bet that hyped-up hairball couldn't even stick on a plaster he's so full of caffeine,"

"I liked him," Chuck grinned, "He's one of those people who just seem to be genuinely nice. They all seem really nice,"

"Yeah, you and your happy-go-weirdy buddies all seem to get along, especially you and that dead guy," Emerson hinted at Chuck, "I wouldn't be surprised if Pie man here got all jealous and 're-dead-ed' him again,"

"I didn't "undead" him in the first place!" the Pie-maker said, protesting his innocence again.

"Then why's he still alive?" Emerson countered.

"I don't think you've got anything to worry about," Chuck comforted her jealous boyfriend, "I think Jack's more interested in you than he is in me,"

Emerson chuckled, ignoring the Pie-maker's slight confused shudder and pulling up outside the morgue. The three stepped out of the car, Chuck adjusting her yellow headscarf as she went, their heads full of wonderings about the unusual foursome they'd left at _The Pie Hole._ Or so they thought.

* * *

"Eurgh!"

Emerson Cod, the Pie-maker and the girl named Chuck recoiled in slight horror and shock when they first saw the body on the table. Chuck was the first to speak,

"How did it get so…?"

"Purple?" Emerson suggested. He cleared his throat and consulted his notes before continuing, "This here is Tobias Skywalker. A bird enthusiast, his ex-girlfriend found him lying dead in a birdbath,"

"Which of course makes her suspect number one," Chuck said.

"Of course. His brother's the one who hired us because he doesn't believe the official report on the body, and he's already told me a lot about Miss Maria Moore," Emerson replied.

"Oooh! The jealous ex-girlfriend scenario!" Chuck said excitedly. Emerson nodded,

"Apparently the body started turning purple when it was taken away,"

"What's the official report?" the Pie-maker asked.

"Death by lethal injection," Emerson smiled, "So you might wanna be careful when you go waking it up,"

"This day just keeps getting better and better," the Pie-maker muttered, pushing up his sleeves and leaning closer to the corpse.

"Alrighty then! What's going on here?" Ned sprang back from Tobias's body almost guiltily as the Doctor exploded his way into the room, rubbing his hands together energetically. Jack and Martha followed him, with identical grins and interest sparkling in their eyes.

"Doctor! What are you doing here?" Chuck asked happily, with a grin as wide as the Doctor's.

"Hi again, Ned," the Captain winked at the Pie man. Emerson, meanwhile, was checking his watch and growing angrier by the second.

"There was a murder, and murders are what I do best. Didn't I tell you about me and Agatha Christie?" the Doctor flashed a dazzling grin at the investigators, oblivious to the tension that was slowly building up in the room, "Although, I'm not saying that me murdering people is what I do best, I'm not that kind of man at all…"

"How did he die?" Martha asked, deftly pulling a small medical torch out of her jacket pocket, and beginning to inspect the body.

"Lethal injection," Chuck answered, smiling slightly at her. Jack and the Doctor joined Martha at the side of the table, one man on either side of the medical student, so that the trio were facing Ned, Emerson and Chuck respectively.

"Doctor, have you ever seen anything like this before?" Martha asked.

"I'm not sure. It looks familiar, but I can't be certain just yet," the Doctor replied, picking up a foot and examining it, "I'm sure I've seen this exact shade of purple somewhere before…"

The Doctor and Martha got stuck right in with the medical examinations. The former had pulled out his specs again and was muttering with the medical student as they checked eyes, teeth, veins and skin. Chuck looked intrigued, so leant in to give a hand where needed. The Pie-maker was trying hard not to be jealous of Chuck's interest in the strange Doctor, while also attempting to avoid locking gazes with the Captain, who was desperately trying to get the Pie-maker's attention. As things took a weird and unusual turn, the Pie-maker began to stress-bake in his head, and Emerson began to stress-knit in his. The situation that had been quite happily contained up until a few short moments ago was now spinning wildly out of Emerson's control.

"How did you get here, anyway?" Emerson snapped suddenly.

"Well, Ned left his car keys…" the Doctor began innocently, noticing how the Pie-maker began to squirm under the private investigator's accusing look.

"The cute blonde led us here," Jack explained.

"You left… your car keys…?" Emerson breathed angrily, glaring at the Pie-maker. The Pie-maker backed away from the seething investigator, right into Captain Harkness's welcoming arms.

"Agh!" the Pie-maker let out a little squeak of terror, tripped over his own feet and fell…. onto Tobias' body on the table. As soon as his hands connected with the purple flesh, a flash of gold light spread through the body. Dreading what would happen next; Ned immediately touched the body again, before it even had a chance to move.

"Well, that was odd," the Doctor commented, his hands still exploring the dead body, "Thought there was a flash of body heat there, but no, I must have been imagining it,"

The Pie-maker looked at Chuck. Chuck looked at the Pie-maker. They both wore identical expressions of shock and slight fear. Emerson was livid, realising now that there was no way the murder would be solved quickly, and that he wouldn't be able to continue his knitting any time soon. Stress-knitting was no longer helping; his anger needed a target.

"So, what do you guys normally do?" the Doctor asked randomly, looking up at Emerson and smiling manically.

"Don't you go smiling at me!" Emerson replied, avoiding the question, "You and your big hair just ruined my murder investigation!"

He pointed an accusatory finger at the Doctor, who adopted an innocent and confused expression, which Chuck decided was completely adorable.

"Me? I was helping!" he protested.

"No, you weren't. If I'd needed your help I would have asked for it!" Emerson growled.

"Wait, you said he died from a lethal injection, right?" Martha asked the investigator, looking up from Tobias' body for the first time, defusing a highly charged situation before it had a chance to explode.

"Yes…" Emerson replied, distracted and slightly placated for a moment.

"Then why isn't there a bruise?" Martha mused, "There is no indication anywhere that he was injected with anything,"

"Really?" the Doctor asked, giving the body another glance, "You're right! How did I miss that?" Emerson rolled his eyes in the Doctor's general direction.

"So that means that he wasn't killed by a lethal injection..." Chuck mused to the Pie-maker.

"Then what did he die of?" the Pie-maker mused back.

"It also means that our friend here was murdered using a method rarely seen on this planet," the Doctor added.

"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Emerson asked suspiciously. Jack frowned, knowing that the Doctor was about to tell their new found 'friends' their secret. He could only imagine Emerson's reaction, and he didn't think he'd like it.

"Well," the Doctor began, preparing to launch into an explanation full of jargon, alien terminology and a slight dash of technobabble, "We have three possibilities,"

He paused, waiting for everyone to pay attention. This, he knew, was going to be important. Emerson seemed a bit miffed, feeling that he was about to be outperformed by the Doctor, but the others were regarding the be-suited one with varying degrees of interest.

"One, venom from the highly dangerous and deadly Caernopholocchi Cobra. However, this is highly unlikely as they are native to the Roscor System. Possibility number B is just as unlikely – a sting from a Seku-Seku bird. But there's no way a flock of Seku-Sekus could survive the flight from the Marogun galaxy to Earth, so that's out the window. And lastly," he paused, realising that he probably should stop and breathe at some point, "Lastly, it could be an extremely clever lead based paint that doesn't look like paint and kills on contact with human flesh,"

A short silence followed the Doctor's explanation. The Captain and the medical student were digesting the Doctor's latest spool of information, while the private investigator, the Pie-maker and the girl named Chuck were internally debating how to react to this strange outburst. Emerson's brain was the first to reach a conclusion: he laughed.

"What do you think I am, stupid?" he chortled, then began to attempt to take control of the situation again, "Right. Let's split up. Chuck, you and Pie man over there can go and speak to Maria Moore, and I'll go pump Skywalker's brother for information,"

"What can we do?" the Doctor asked, smiling widely and looking helpful.

"You can get the hell outta here!" Emerson snapped.

"Hey, we're just trying to help," Jack said calmly.

"Besides, with more people to help, we'll be able to split up and get more done," Chuck put in.

"This means you'll be able to count your money quicker," the Pie-maker muttered in Emerson's ear, knowing that this statement would have the desired effect.

"Well, I'm going to go back to the scene of the crime. There might be more evidence as to how he died there," Martha said, earning a smile from the usually grumpy investigator.

"I like the way you think, Miss Jones," Emerson said, thinking the situation over again before concluding, "Right. Ned – you're on information duty. Question suspects. I'll give you a copy of the list of most likely people,"

"Ooh! Take pie!" Chuck suggested, "You're supposed to take food when people die, remember?"

The Pie-maker nodded, and was about to ask Emerson if Chuck could go with him, so they could spend at least some of the day together, when Jack interjected with,

"I'll go with him. I'm good at getting people to do what I want," he winked at the Pie-maker, who sighed and grudgingly decided to resign himself to the fact that the flirtatious Captain was not going to leave him alone.

"I'm going to take a blood sample from the body," the Doctor decided.

"I'll help!" Chuck smiled. The Doctor grinned back at her.

"Great, I'll need a hand," he said happily.

"Alright," Emerson agreed, "Me and Miss Jones will investigate the crime scene,"

"Scope out some clues!" Martha grinned.

"What about Donna and Olive?" the Captain enquired, reminding the others of the two slightly more squeamish women they'd left outside.

"Yeah, Olive will want to help," Chuck said to Emerson.

"No, I need someone to look after _The Pie Hole _while we're gone_,_ and seeing as you're going to help the Doctor, Olive will have to man the shop for us," the Pie-maker replied to the girl he loved. She smiled back at him, glad that he was going to put his jealous tendencies aside and let her go off with a strange and strangely attractive man.

"And I want Donna to look at the kind of paint you sell around here," the Doctor mused, staring off into space, "I've got a suspicious feeling that I could be right about that..."

Luckily, as all he could see were the scenarios in his head emblazoned on the morgue wall, the Doctor didn't see the weird looks the Pie-maker, the private investigator, the Captain, Martha, and even Chuck were giving him.

* * *

_End of chapter five._


	6. In Which Everything Occurs At Once i

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Six, Part One by: **Jess

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**In Which Everything Happens At Once**

* * *

"Making me look at paint… what cheek! I once saved the Earth from little creatures made of fat, - and rampaging Ood too! – and now he wants me to look at paint?!" Donna ranted. She was sitting on _The Pie Hole_'scounter, venting to Olive or whoever happened to be listening, and generally being a nuisance in the crowded eatery. Picking at the remains of her blueberry cup-pie, the time-traveller noticed Olive struggling under a mountain of platefuls of pie.

"Want a hand with that?" the flame-haired woman asked, jumping down off her perch and taking some pie off the tiny waitress's hands.

"The strawberry, the peach and the raspberry need to go to that table over there," Olive attempted to gesture with her eyebrows, before plunging on, "The apple and the two cup-pies here are for the first booth on the right, and take the apricot to the counter. I need to make a lot of coffee,"

"Right," Donna said, artfully balancing the plates in both hands, with the plate of apricot pie resting carefully on her head.

A few minutes later, the two women had worked themselves into a comfortable routine: while waiting for the water to boil, Olive would cut up slices of pie, which Donna would then serve, during which time Olive would make hot drinks of tea and coffee for the customers.

"I've never seen this place so busy," Olive remarked, as she and Donna stood in the kitchen. They were glad of a moment's rest now that everyone was happily eating pie and ice cream. _The Pie Hole _was the busiest it had been in months, full of chatter and laughter, and it seemed a shame to Olive that the Pie-maker himself wasn't there to see it.

"Can I ask a question?" the blonde-haired woman began.

"Fire away!" Donna replied enthusiastically.

"Is Jack...?" Olive continued, although she found that she didn't really know what she was asking.

"Don't worry; he's like that all the time!" Donna laughed, "He'll flirt with anything that has a pulse,"

"Oh," Olive said. She looked slightly put out by this, but at the same time she was relieved that the Pie-maker was not completely to blame for Jack's advances. It made sense, in her mind at least, for Jack to be attracted to her beloved Ned, but was glad that the Pie-maker had not encouraged the Captain's behaviour.

"It does mean that he finds you attractive," Donna went on, attempting to put Olive's mind at ease, "But it does get irritating after a while when you're travelling and he makes a comment about every life form he sees,"

"Right," the waitress replied. The use of the words 'life form' rather than 'person' had not escaped her notice, but her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of the Pie-maker's wellbeing in Jack's company, and so she decided not to mention it.

"You know," Donna began suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence the women had slipped into, "I can spot unrequited love a mile away, so are you going to bring it up, or shall I?"

"Is it that obvious?" Olive asked, a little surprised by her own lack of subtlety. Mentally, she was supposed to have been working on that…

"Not really," the time-traveller admitted, while cutting herself a sliver of kiwi pie, "But when you're around the Doctor, unrequited love becomes a pretty big issue,"

"Oh… Are you…?" Olive hinted at a relationship between the pair, at which Donna laughed and said,

"God, no! He's…," she stopped short of saying that he was an alien, and instead continued, "…not my type. I was talking about Martha. And Jack, to a lesser extent,"

"He does seem to be a very… magnetic person," Olive said, thinking of the way Chuck was drawn to the strange man.

"Magnetic is, I think, _the _word to describe the Doctor," Donna replied, "He seems to pick up people wherever he stops,"

"Are you one of those people?" Olive asked, genuinely interested as to how the Doctor met the people he travelled with, and wondering if maybe there was a certain South-poled honey-lover who could be attracted to the Doctor's North pole.

"In a way…" Donna began, wondering where to start with her story, "It was my wedding day and –"

"Excuse me, but why is there a British 'Gilbert Mackenzie Trench' model blue police box on your roof?"

* * *

Meanwhile, the medical student and the private investigator were speeding across town to the scene of Tobias' murder: the gardens at Papen County Ornithology Society's halls of residence.

"Have you seen a lot of murders?" Emerson asked Martha suddenly. The idea of bringing her with him had been playing on his mind, and even though she seemed calm and confident, he couldn't help the slight worry that had lodged itself in the base of his brain.

"I've seen my fair share," Martha replied quietly, "It was mostly just illnesses and the like at the NHS, but death seems to follow the Doctor…"

"How did you get caught up in all this?" the private investigator wondered aloud, "You all seem out of place, but you especially seem too young to be so familiar with death,"

"I love him," the medical student admitted bluntly, "I'd follow him to the ends of the Earth, and I have, but I'm interested in the medical side as well. Wherever we go, there's something I can do, and I'm glad that I can help. So this is another adventure for me,"

The pair were quiet for a moment. Emerson, feigning interest in the road ahead, considered Martha's words. He understood what she was saying. Love, mystery, the thrill of the chase – these somewhat romantic ideas appealed to him just as much as they did to her.

"What about you?" she asked, "What brought you into the dark underworld of murder investigation?"

"Justice," Emerson replied simply, "And… it gives the brain a good workout too,"

They laughed, comfortable with themselves, their current situation and each other, and they noticed with slight surprise that their journey had come to an end.

The Papen County Ornithology Society had recently relocated its headquarters, as too few breeds of bird could be seen from its rather dusty windows. The Society was now housed in an imposing building on the outskirts of the city: the walls were of a dark grey stone that seemed to ooze haughtiness; the wrought iron gates seemed almost menacing; and the large stone eagle perched on the roof eyed all visitors with disdain, as if only a true ornithologist could admire such a creature.

"Nice place," Emerson muttered to his companion as they stepped out of his car onto the gravel.

"Friendly," Martha replied, and the private investigator smiled at her tone.

"Name?" a snooty female voice greeted Emerson when he pushed the 'ADMITTANCE' button on the gates.

"Emerson Cod, I'm a P.I., here to investigate the possible murder of one Tobias Skywalker," he glanced at Martha, "And this is Doctor Jones, my partner,"

Martha flushed at the reference. 'Doctor' was better than 'student', and 'partner' was better than 'assistant'. 'Partner' was also much, much better than 'person who's left to clear up the mess the whirlwind that calls himself 'Doctor' leaves behind'.

"You may enter," the disembodied voice replied, cutting into Martha's thoughts, and the gates creaked open.

"Shall we?" the private investigator offered Martha his arm, which she took, and they walked up the drive together, ignoring the angry eagle which towered above them.

They were met, at the door, by a flustered receptionist. From her manner, the two investigators could tell that she was definitely not the woman who had admitted them minutes previously.

"You're here about Tobias, aren't you," she said, fumbling for the glasses that hung on the chain around her neck. It was a statement rather than a question and at the nods she received in reply, the motherly woman promptly burst into tears.

"Such a l...loss," she sobbed, "He was so… brilliant, so w….w….wonderful. The project he was working on was g…g….going to be his masterpiece!"

"If you don't mind me asking, what project was this?" Emerson asked, as Martha put an arm around the woman's shoulders and comforted her.

"He was compiling a –" she stopped and sniffed into a pink handkerchief, "– a detailed report on the magnificence of w…wings,"

How she managed to say that and not sound bored, Martha could not understand. Nor could Emerson understand how she had managed to say that with a straight face.

"Could you show us – ?"

"Where did Tobias – ?"

The two investigators laughed, and the receptionist managed a shaky smile at the way the two spoke over each other, each beginning their question at exactly the same time.

"Where did Tobias do his work?" Martha spoke first, phrasing the question kindly so as not to upset the woman further.

"He did most of his work in his dormitory. I'll take you to it," the woman replied, sniffing slightly.

"Nice work there," Emerson muttered quietly to Martha as the pair of them followed the receptionist to Tobias' room.

"Thanks," Martha replied, flashing the private investigator a smile that shone as brightly as the polished brass doorknob in front of them.

"This was his room. His place of peace…" the woman sniffed again. She left Emerson with the key, then excused herself, her eyes full of tears. Emerson rolled his eyes.

"So," he pondered, looking up and down the tiny room, "What can we learn from Mister Skywalker in here?"

"Well, it looks like he was interested in birds of another kind," Martha said, holding up two photographs in silver frames. The first showed Tobias, a handsome and resolutely not-purple young man, with his arm around the waist of a pretty, green-eyed redhead. The second featured Tobias again, but this time his arm was adorned with a striking brunette with dark, intelligent eyes, known to Tobias by such nicknames as 'Gorgeous' and 'Stunner', but also known to Emerson as…

"Miss Maria Moore," the private investigator remarked, taking the picture from Martha and studying it, "Skywalker's ex-girlfriend. The one the brother thinks killed Tobias,"

"So who's this?" Martha asked, holding up the picture of Tobias and the redhead, "His current girlfriend?"

"Could be. We'll have to rely on Ned and Jack to squeeze some information out of Maria here," Emerson continued. He looked up from the photograph and surveyed the room again. Having completed his initial search of Tobias' room and found himself empty-handed, the private investigator ushered the medical student out of the room and they made their way to the garden in silence, their heads swimming in theories.

* * *

At the same time, the Doctor and Chuck were standing on the rooftop, enjoying the afternoon sun, and talking about the murder they were investigating. Or rather, Chuck was talking about the death of Tobias, the Doctor, however, kept going off on some quite random tangents that confused Chuck thoroughly. Despite the Doctor's ramblings, Chuck found herself enjoying his company and this slight and precious respite from the normality she was forced to pretend she had.

"It was then, that night, that the Vurons attacked! The slime, let me tell you, went _everywhere._ Not pleasant. Although," the Doctor paused, "that was a rather darker shade of purple…"

"So, what were you saying about the cobra? Do you think that might be what killed Tobias and made him turn purple?" Chuck asked, trying to keep up with the conversation.

"The Caernopholocchi?" the Doctor mused on this possibility, "I don't know… Maybe. But how one got to Earth unharmed is beyond me. Their scales are very delicate, very sensitive, but they make fantastic clothing. You don't have space travel here, do you?"

Chuck shook her head. She felt that the Doctor was testing her, so she decided that she would test him right back.

"Isn't space travel a bit farfetched?" Chuck challenged, knowing, hoping, that the Doctor would prove her wrong.

"Oh, of course," he nodded vigorously, "But what is your take on space and_ time_ travel?"

Leaning against the side of the TARDIS, the Doctor's eyes sparkled.

"You mean…?" Chuck said reverently. The Doctor smiled in reply, taking the TARDIS key out of his pocket. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, confident that Chuck would follow him.

After just a moment's hesitation, Chuck pushed open the blue police box door and walked into the TARDIS.

"Wow…" she breathed, looking around the organically golden interior. The Doctor waited for the classic 'It's bigger on the inside!' reaction, but the beekeeper seemed to be taking all weirdness in her stride.

"This is amazing! Can it really travel in time?" Chuck wondered, running a hand over the console.

"Yup. Space too. But that's not why we're here!" the Doctor remembered suddenly, "To the Analysis Room!"

"The Analysis Room?" Chuck repeated.

"Exactly. The Analysis Room!" and he shot off through the TARDIS' twisting corridors, and Chuck hoped fervently that she wouldn't get lost inside the Doctor's fantastic machine…

The Analysis Room, so imaginatively named by the Doctor, was a large room, with curved coral beams meeting at an apex to create a high vaulted ceiling. Complex alien machinery line one of the walls, silver and gleaming in its stillness. A large turquoise-coloured crystal orb sat on a short podium on the centre of the floor, which seemed to radiate intelligence and power.

"Right," the Doctor said, clapping his hands together, "Let's begin," And with those words, he bounded into action. He pulled a glass vial out of one of the inside pockets of his jacket, and slotted it into the waiting three-pronged claw in the side of one of the bits of machinery. Chuck watched as the thick red liquid poured, juddering, into the machine.

"Where did you get that?" she asked, curious, as she hadn't noticed the Doctor take the sample of Tobias' blood earlier.

"This?" he looked up, devious innocence written all over his face, "I took it at the morgue. With a syringe. You were there!"

"Does Emerson know?"

"…" the Doctor's refusal to answer Chuck's question spoke as loudly as he had on the rooftop. He surprised her further when he took out another sample that Chuck found slightly disturbing.

"You took his finger?!"

"He doesn't need it!" the Doctor justified, waving his hands as though the problem could be dismissed as easily as one of Chuck's bees, "Here we go!"

He pulled down the green-topped lever on the side of the machine, and the whole TARDIS shook and groaned. Lights flickered, smoke filtered into the room, and a sound like a distant explosion was left ringing in the ears of the Time Lord and the girl who was not dead, who found themselves sprawled on top of each other on the TARDIS floor.

"What was that?" Chuck asked, coughing and propping herself up on her elbows.

"Felt like an internal earthquake," the Doctor said thoughtfully, extricating himself from Chuck. On his feet, he brushed off his suit and helped Chuck to stand.

"Come on. Let's see what's wrong with her," he said, turning away from the girl and surreptitiously hiding the hair he had taken from her during the fall in his pocket. He was sure that there was something not quite normal here. The evidence all pointed to one or more supernatural forces acting in Papen County: Tobias Skywalker's purple body; the flash of body heat he'd noticed in Tobias' blatantly dead corpse under the Pie-maker's hands; Chuck's reactions, or not, to the strange things that were happening, i.e. the revelation that a police box could travel in time and space; and that pie, that tasted so perfect that it could not have been made by human hands. Hmmm... maybe he'd have to obtain another one of Ned's pies for, ahem, evidence gathering...

* * *

"You know, I'm sure I've asked this before, but what is up with this partition?" Jack asked, rapping his knuckles on the offending transparent panel that separated him from the Pie-maker. Ned sighed inwardly. He was glad to be back in control of his car, and thankful that the Captain could not get to him for the moment, but he knew that Jack was intrigued, and would therefore ask questions that the Pie-maker did not want to answer.

"And what's with the convenient rubber glove?" the Captain continued, "My brain's going crazy with the number of things I could think of to do with that,"

"It's for steering emergencies," the Pie-maker replied, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.

"Sure," Jack winked at Ned, but thankfully didn't continue with questions about the glove or the partition. He was content to sit and fantasise about Ned, Chuck and the glove, and all the exciting things they could do with it. The Pie-maker was also content with the silence, pleased for a respite from Jack's flirtatious advances.

"What are you doing?" the Pie-maker asked suddenly, looking at Jack with warning in his eyes.

"Nothing," Jack replied, his perfect teeth sparkling as he kept his hand on the Pie-maker's thigh, "Just wondering what exactly constituted a steering emergency,"

"Not this," Ned replied, taking his eyes off the road and forcibly removing Jack's hand from his leg.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, taking control of the car as it threatened to career out of control, "Maybe that _does _constitute a steering emergency,"

The Pie-maker glared at him.

"That was all your fault," he said.

"It was worth it," Jack said cheekily, grinning at the shocked man beside him, "Be careful next time,"

Consequently, the Pie-maker kept his eyes on the road for the rest of the journey, ignoring Jack completely, no matter how hard the man in question tried to get his attention.

* * *

_Sorry for the slight cut off ending!_

_To be continued in Chapter 6b..._


	7. In Which Everything Occurs At Once ii

**Author's note: This fic was written by myself (Immy) and my friend Jess. We are working together closely on it but taking it in turns to write chapters - I will indicate who wrote which chapter as we go along.**

**Chapter Six, Part Two by: **Jess

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**In Which Everything Happens At Once**

* * *

"What do you mean a 'Gilbert Mackenzie Trench' thingy?" Olive asked, glaring at the lanky man who had asked the question, "There's nothing on our rooftop!"

"Oh really?" the man continued, sneering as best as he could, although for a very nerdy individual a convincing sneer was quite impossible.

"Yes really!" the pie-waitress asserted, "Now did you want pie, or am I gonna have to kick you out?"

"But I can see it!" the stranger whined, clearly trying a different approach. Nods and murmurs came from the group of similarly dressed people who flanked their leader, and he smiled slightly at the support.

"Look, matey, I don't know what kind of glue you and your friends've been sniffing, but there is no police box on that roof!" Donna interrupted, fearful that the TARDIS would be discovered and investigated. However, this contradiction caused outrage in the nerd party, and they all began to speak over one another at once.

"But I –"

"It's all I've ever dreamed of –"

"Episode 15! –"

"It's not like I was gonna –"

"I don't know what you're talking about –"

"Series 4? Attack –"

"I swear –"

"Please can we –"

"Will you all just shut up so I can hear myself think?!" Donna shouted, standing on the counter to get everyone's attention.

"Go back to your pie," Olive said bitter-sweetly to the rest of _The Pie Hole_'s patrons, who had stopped to gawk at the commotion happening at the counter.

"Donna, get down!" she hissed, but the taller woman ignored her.

"Right, now you nerds are going to listen to me," Donna began, speaking very clearly, very pointedly and very menacingly to the group staring up at her in awe and shock, "You're upsetting everyone in here. Look at those little kids! So, you're going to sit down, order some pie, and then and ONLY then will we talk calmly and patiently about this supposed police box on the roof. Or, you can all get out RIGHT NOW. So, what's it to be?"

Reluctantly, the nerds seemed to obey her at once. Pouring themselves into several booths at one end of _The Pie Hole_, they whispered among themselves conspiratorially. In their minds, Donna seemed exactly like the kind of person who wanted to recall the 'Gilbert Mackenzie Trench' police box models, although her accent was very British and very cute. To be honest, the fire-headed woman flustered them a little...

"Well, that went well," the woman in question muttered to Olive.

"I'll get them their pie," Olive replied. Several minutes and much deliberation later, the nerds were nibbling on pie, and Donna and Olive were prepared to answer any and all questions with as much knowledge as they felt able to give.

"Now, what's up?" Donna asked the man who seemed to be 'lead nerd', and whose underpants had just professed him to be Bernard X Wilkins.

"Well," Bernard puffed his chest out in an attempt to make himself look more impressive. This might have worked, had he had anything to puff out, "We wanted to know if _The Pie Hole_ had a license to display recalled British police boxes in public,"

"That was seriously all you wanted?" Olive asked, stunned slightly by how pointless that request seemed to her.

"And we were wondering...," an underling began, "if we could... you know... _see_ it...?"

"There is no police box on our roof!" Olive asserted again, getting more and more agitated, "Look, I'll show you,"

The petite waitress got up and stormed out of the crowded _Pie Hole_, followed by Donna and flanked by the conglomeration of police box fanatics. Once outside, the assembled group looked up to the roof as one, with the exception of Donna, staring at the ground, who braced herself for the imminent discovery of the TARDIS.

"See? What did I tell you? There is NO police box on our rooftop," Olive said, sounding exasperated. Donna looked up in shock. That was news to her. Was Olive blind all of a sudden? It was there, _right there, _couldn't she see it?!

Donna knew she was freaking out, but how could she not when her one method of transport had, probably quite literally, vanished off the face of the Earth? And not to mention it's owner, the man who was supposed to be in it, with a girl they had just met, examining blood samples for a murder they were supposed to be investigating, where was he? What was he doing, just disappearing into the abyss that was the whole of time and space without at least telling her?

"Here we go again," the stressed time-traveller muttered to herself, "Leaping off into the vortex with a pretty girl, and forgetting everyone else!"

"Huh?" Olive said, turning to her friend.

"Oh, nothing," Donna replied, a false smile lighting her face. Wherever he was, the Doctor was going to be in so much trouble when he got back.

* * *

"Doctor Jones, what do you make of this?" Emerson said, holding up a few pieces of what appeared to be bird food, all stained the exact same colour as...

"Tobias..." the medical student replied, "He was that colour. Maybe the Doctor was right, you know, with his Seku-Seku bird theory,"

Emerson snorted, disbelieving. There was no way he was going to admit defeat, especially not to that lunatic in the pinstriped suit.

"Or maybe," he said, "Maybe the killer's clever, and wanted us to think that, and made sure that all the evidence pointed in that direction so we'd be thrown off the trail,"

Martha raised her eyebrows. Even she could see that that seemed ridiculous. The truth was right there in front of them, dancing a jig in glorious Technicolor, but the private investigator just didn't want to believe it.

"If that is true..." Martha mused, attempting to appease Emerson even though she knew he was wrong, "How would the killer know about the Seku-Sekus? Someone knows something they shouldn't. I'm taking it that aliens aren't commonplace here..."

"Aliens?" Now it was Emerson's turn to do some eyebrow-raising, "Nobody ever said anything about aliens,"

Martha blushed, knowing she'd said too much. The Doctor wouldn't be too happy with her for giving away their secret. Or maybe he would, he was weird like that.

"Where exactly did you say you were from, Miss Jones?" Emerson asked, scrutinising her. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and a frown crossed his face. The private investigator walked past the young doctor, who breathed a sigh of relief. While Emerson was distracted, she was safe. Although she knew that a mind like Emerson's wouldn't remain distracted for too long.

She smiled inwardly, a small sign of a private victory, as Emerson turned to her, frowning still, holding a large ruby-coloured feather.

"That might be all the proof we need," Martha grinned, "Believe me about aliens now?"

"Oh hell no!" Emerson replied, praying that the Pie-maker would find some good solid evidence that could prove Martha and her weirdy cohorts wrong.

* * *

"Oh no oh no oh no!" the Doctor exclaimed, running a hand through his hair and rushing about the console room wildly, pressing buttons wherever he went, "This is not good. What did you do?"

"What did I do?" Chuck asked, affronted, "I didn't do anything! This is your spaceship!"

"**She** is not a spaceship," the Doctor countered, "She's a sentient time and space machine, and she's very sensitive. So you did something to upset her, but I don't know what yet,"

In a burst of energy, the Doctor darted off through the smoking and whirring console room, back to the Analysis Room, where his sneaky analysis on Chuck's hair was almost complete. Making sure that the confused brunette could not see what he was doing, he leaned over the machine, calling up Chuck's data as he did so. Tobias could wait, this was important. Something about Chuck and her hair had seriously messed with the TARDIS's systems.

"Doctor...?" Chuck called.

"What?" he asked, flustered, having returned like a thunderbolt to the console room, "What's wrong?"

"Why are we in space?" the beekeeper replied, pointing out of the open TARDIS doors and looking out onto an expanse of black, punctured by bright stars the size of apples. The Doctor was momentarily taken aback.

"Yes, yes, I told you I could travel in time and space, but that's not the point right now," he rambled, "You have put your finger right on the problem. Why? The TARDIS was quite happily parked, with the handbrake on, on that rooftop, with your bees, and now...."

The Doctor left Chuck to gape at the stars, while he went back to the Analysis Room. He returned a few minutes later with a print-out in his hands and a grim expression on his face.

"I may have found the problem," he said, looking at Chuck severely as she closed the TARDIS doors and turned to face him.

"Yes?"

"Well," the Doctor said, running a hand through his hair, "There's the slight chance that it was an isolated random incident, or, more probably, it has to do with the fact that you're dead,"

Chuck looked stunned. The Doctor pressed on.

"See, this has happened before. Sort of. Basically, it's the pencil in the mug scenario all over again,"

"Pencil in a mug?" the dead girl who was not dead questioned.

"Donna, the original pencil, was attracted to the TARDIS, played by the mug in my little action replay, because she was covered in these particle things, and even if I tried to explain it to you, you wouldn't understand. But now _you_ are the pencil! There's something about you that the TARDIS was attracted to, you being dead, and being a sensitive being, she couldn't handle the intrusion of a SECOND something Not Meant To Be and so whisked us off into space," the Doctor grinned sheepishly at the end of his explanation, "So, in theory, we're lucky not to be at the end of time right now. Although I'm not entirely sure where exactly we are. Looks like it could be the Epsilon quadrant parallel to the Suvara system, that's just a guess mind you..."

"Right," Chuck nodded, then paused, "So I'm a pencil,"

The Doctor just smiled.

* * *

"Hi, I'm Maria," a pretty brunette smiled at the Captain and the Pie-maker, as she welcomed them into her home. They could tell that she'd been crying, but she seemed to be holding herself together so that she could be as cooperative as possible, "I assume you're here to talk about Tobias...?"

The Pie-maker nodded, then held out the square pie box he was holding.

"It's kiwi," he said, "It's a healing pie."

"That's sweet." Maria sniffed, "Thank you," Her eyes twinkled at the Pie-maker, who smiled back, and Jack could feel something remarkably like jealousy growing inside him. That was new. But before he could help himself, his eyes narrowed, and he almost growled, but settled instead for a barked,

"Did you do it?"

Both Maria and the Pie-maker seemed shocked by this outburst. The Pie-maker looked at Jack disbelievingly, and Maria's eyes threatened to fill with tears again. The Captain coughed, awkward in the situation he'd just created, and tried a different tact.

"Err... were you close to Tobias?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yes," Maria replied, as if it was obvious, "We were working on the wingspan project together,"

"Weren't you also his girlfriend?" the Pie-maker asked innocently. The look she shot him terrified the two; if those daggers had been real, even Jack may have had trouble coming back to life.

"I _was_, but he dumped me for that... that..." the brunette took a deep breath in, smiled widely, and continued, "Tobias and I hadn't been a couple for three weeks. He left me for Selena Sampson. She's the one you should be talking to."

"Really? Why's that?" Jack asked, "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you had a very good reason to kill him."

"Me?!" Maria was shocked, "I... I loved him!"

"Exactly," Jack pressed, "We all know 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'. And you seem pretty scorned."

"Look, just because I hated being replaced by Selena, doesn't make me a murderer! Or even a potential murderer!" Maria exclaimed, "Besides, I needed Tobias, and still cared about him. There's no way I can finish this project without him now."

The Captain and the Pie-maker shared a look. (No, not that kind of look.) As far as they could tell, Miss Maria Moore seemed innocent. There was no more they could get out of her. Between them, they silently decided it was time to cut their losses and question the next suspect on their list – the beautiful, boyfriend-stealing Selena Sampson.

"Well, thanks for your time, Miss," Jack sparkled.

"That's all you wanted?" Maria asked, slightly surprised.

"Yep, time to go," the Pie-maker replied.

"Oh," was the only response Maria could form.

"Unless there's anything else you'd like to tell us...?" Jack began, hinting that she might know more.

"Talk to Selena. She might know what happened, and if she did, she's probably to blame. But be warned – she might still hate me," Maria advised after a pause to collect her thoughts.

"Hate you? Why would she hate you?" the Pie-maker questioned, puzzled.

"Tobias was fickle. He wanted both of us. When he dumped me as his girlfriend in favour of Selena, he ditched her as a project partner for me," Maria explained, "Oh! And you should probably talk to _her _ex-boyfriend. He hated Tobias, and often came in when we were working to threaten him and beg for Selena back."

Jack looked at the Pie-maker, as if to say 'This information would have been useful before', before turning to Maria and saying,

"Thank you. We'll definitely talk to him,"

"We'll be in touch when we find out what happened to him," the Pie-maker promised, which earned him a pretty smile from Maria and a possessive death-glare from Jack. However, he did not notice either, as he was too busy thinking about his beloved Chuck and how much he was missing her.

The trip to Selena Sampson's apartment took just about 14 minutes and 17 seconds, during which the pair of investigators discussed, for some reason, the merits of driving on the right side of the road compared with driving on the left, which Jack had been finding torturous while living in Cardiff.

"And Ianto's always yelling at me, but it's not like I'm going to kill any–" the Captain trailed off as a beautiful red-head holding a kitchen knife roughly yanked the door open in front of them. Almost instinctively, the Pie-maker put his hands, one holding the box of pie, in the air and looked innocent.

"Don't be scared, sweetie, I'm not gonna hurt ya!" the woman laughed, "I'm Selena. Who are you two cuties?"

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack introduced himself, taking her unarmed hand and pressing her fingers to his lips.

"I'm kiwi, and I made you a Ned pie," The Pie-maker rambled, clearly flustered by her appearance. After a moment, conscious thought kicked back in, and he corrected what he'd just said, "That's a lie. I'm Ned, and I made you a kiwi pie... Here."

He handed over the pie to Selena, who ushered the two men into her kitchen, where she cleaned off the knife she was holding and got to work on the pie.

"Sweet of you to bring me pie. What's the occasion?" she said, offering slices to Jack and Ned, the latter of whom quickly refused.

"We wanted to talk to you about Tobias. And apparently kiwi pie's a healing pie, so we thought we'd bring you one," Jack explained.

"Oh. That," Selena said sadly, "Look, I loved Tobias, and I'd be so grateful if you could find out what happened to him."

"So you don't know who killed him?" Ned asked.

"Of course not! Why would you ever think that?" Selena exclaimed around a mouthful of pie, "This pie's really good, by the way,"

The Pie-maker smiled.

"We got the impression from Maria Moore that you might know something about Tobias' death," Jack explained, causing an explosion in Selena's general direction.

"Maria?! She sent you after me? Well I had nothing to do with it! I don't know what happened to Tobias, I didn't kill him and I betcha she blamed me to cover up her own guilt!" Selena shrieked.

"Do you know anyone who might have wanted Tobias dead?" the Pie-maker asked quietly, attempting to appease the upset woman.

"Aside from you and the ex," Jack said under his breath.

"Well, my ex-boyfriend, Timothy-Roy, he had it in for Tobias for stealin' me away. What he could never understand was that maybe I wanted to be stolen." Selena said, once she had calmed down.

"Could you tell us where we could find him?" Jack pressed, looking at the Pie-maker in an attempt to communicate his desire to leave.

"Sure, he lives a few blocks away. I'll go write it down," Selena smiled, getting up and leaving the room.

"Wow, she's hot but a little bit possessive-psycho. Not my type at all," Jack muttered to the Pie-maker, "If she gets mad about one ex-girlfriend, she'd be furious about my back-catalogue!"

Ned looked slightly disgusted by this.

"Do you think she did it?" he asked.

"I don't know," Jack mused, "She seems capable, but I'm not sure."

"Here we go!" Selena trilled, handing Jack a small piece of paper.

"Thanks," Jack smiled back, "We'd better go check him out then."

"Thanks for the pie," Selena smiled at Ned, who shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze, before following Jack out of her apartment.

"Look what she's written," Jack said, as soon as he was sure that the unstable Selena was out of earshot, "'Timothy-Roy Ford - 68 Maple Road, three streets down from here. If he's innocent, tell him he can have me back. If he's not, call me, X Selena'. That is not normal."

The two men found themselves discussing the two women they'd just met, and pondering the type of character Tobias had had, as they walked the 7 minutes and 38 seconds to the house of potential murderer number 3 – Timothy-Roy Ford.

"HI CAN I HELP YOU?" a rather short man bellowed at the pair from the open doorway.

"We're looking for a Timothy-Roy Ford. Is that you, by any chance?" Jack asked.

"YES, THAT'S ME. CALL ME TIM, WOULD YOU?" Tim smiled.

"Oh-kay," Jack agreed, shooting a confused look at the man beside him, "We're investigating the death of Tobias Skywalker , and were wondering if we could ask you some questions."

"NO PROBLEM. NOW, I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING. BUT LET ME ASSURE YOU, I AM INNOCENT. AS MUCH AS I DESPISED THE MAN, I COULD NEVER KILL ANYONE. I AM A STRICT VEGAN." Tim explained.

"Right..." Jack began, "I'm sorry for bothering you,"

"CALL AGAIN." Tim smiled as he closed the door.

"That was weird," the Pie-maker assessed.

"Yeah." the Captain agreed.

"Back to _The Pie Hole_?"

"Definitely. We didn't find anything useful, so let's hope that someone else did,"

* * *

_End of chapter 6._


End file.
